


Make Sense

by clusterjam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s11e18, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clusterjam/pseuds/clusterjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11x18 Coda.<br/>Lucifer roared with laughter. It all made sense now. Why Castiel found solace in this kitchen, why he held so tightly onto these memories, why that tiny glimmer of hope had been instilled in him upon the Winchester's attempt of expelling Lucifer; upon seeing Dean again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Sense

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 11x18!

Pain seared through Lucifer's body as Amara struck jolt after jolt of power through his chest. He felt the skin under the layers of stuffy clothing burn in response to her attacks, and though he cried out in anguish, he smiled while he did so. 

He knew this body wasn't his, he knew this pain was only temporary, and if he was being honest – which, he _obviously_ was known to do – he was always a _bit_ of a sadomasochist.  

Amara continued scorching Lucifer in attempt to lure his Father toward her. Lucifer knew that her plan was misguided at best, but he wouldn't tell her that. God hated him, he hated everything that Lucifer stood for, when it came down to it. Lucifer hated humanity, the one thing that his Father asked the angels to love and protect, and he hoped that Amara felt the same way, with maybe the exception of her favorite pet, Dean. 

Dean Winchester. A name he'd already grown to hate, but even moreso now than ever before. As the feeling of hatred flittered across his mind, he felt a violent thrash in the depths of himself in response. _Castiel_.  

"Oh, calm down, little brother. I wouldn't be able to hurt him if I tried. Auntie Amara's got some weird crush on him, and... as we can both tell," Lucifer sighed, letting Castiel feel the heat of Amara's blast to their collective vessel, "she's a teeny-tiny bit stronger than me." 

Castiel screamed in his spot at the fake-bunker's kitchen table. The pain, though only a fraction of Amara's wrath, made him double over and caused tears to well in his eyes. Lucifer delighted in the sight. He mostly left him alone before, because Castiel was so... pitifully depressed that it wouldn't have been any fun to torture him. Now, though, there was a light that he noticed trying to spark its way to the surface of him. _Hope_. Maybe it was the fact that he'd had control over his vessel for a short time, maybe it was an effect of Amara's relentless, constant smiting, bringing something out of him – he wasn't sure. He just knew that he had to squash it before it became a problem. 

He turned off the power to Cas' cozy little makeshift Winchester kitchen. The resulting ruffling of his grace as Castiel's bristled against his was immensely satisfying. He laughed. 

"Poor, sad, Castiel. No more hiding your troubles... from yourself, _or_  me." Lucifer smirked into the darkness of the room. The whole time that Lucifer had been rooming with Castiel, the latter had kept a few strands of his grace - his memories, his feelings – to himself, out of Lucifer's grasp, locked safely with him. Lucifer didn't care to know what they were, didn't think it necessary as long as he knew enough to fool the Winchesters into thinking he was Castiel, and then after they knew, he was too busy trying to find ways to defeat the darkness to care. 

He had all the time in the world, now; and sue him – he was curious. 

Left bare, Castiel had no defenses. Yet he still held tightly onto those few strands. 

"Let me see, Castiel." He started softly, feigning benevolence, moving closer both in mind and with his own grace. Cas gripped tighter. "Now, now, brother... play nice." Lucifer said before his grace slashed at Cas', a few tendrils loosening their hold on those precious treasures. 

"Please, leave me alone." Castiel begged, his voice solemn, but unwavering. 

Lucifer laughed, "You know I can't do that. Not after the little break-in we experienced. I mean, I had fun knocking Crowley around, sure!" He shrugged, advancing yet again on Castiel, leaning over the kitchen table. Through the dark, Castiel could only feel the weight shift in front of him, but Lucifer's grace curled tightly around Castiel's, squeezing it menacingly. "But at the end of the day, the only way to avoid another snafu like that is if you..." Lucifer reached across the table, one hand wringing around Cas' neck, choking him with ease. Castiel was losing the battle, Lucifer angrily smashed and squeezed and snipped at his grace, "give up completely." 

Finally, like a dam giving way, Castiel broke. His grace flooded the darkened kitchen, and Lucifer snatched it up, bringing it to himself and studying it. Castiel was on the floor, gasping for breath as he watched those guarded memories play out in front of his and Lucifer's eyes. 

> _Chuckling, an arm around his shoulder, "I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."_  
> 
> _A hand, gripping him, "Don't ever change."_  
> 
> _Power, intense power. A broken,_ _"Don't make me lose you too."_  
> 
> _"You did the best you could at the time."_ _A_ _trench coat_ _, handed to him._  
> 
> _Lofty, unsteady, mirth. A sure,_ _"I'd rather have you, cursed or not."_  
> 
> _Prayers;_ _desperate, hundreds of them, all the same voice._  
> 
> _A river, P_ _urgatory, arms around him_ _, a hand swiping his cheek, a laugh,_ _"Damn it's good see you."_  
> 
> _A cloud of rage, breaking bones, skin splitting under his knuckles, "We're family, we need you... I need you." Stubble against his palm, skin sewn back together with his grace._  
> 
> _Screaming, drowned out, "I'm sorry, for kicking you out." A_ _smile, "We're both a couple of dumbasses."_  
> 
> _A dulling blood-red lense, vanishing, clear_ _ing to green eyes, full of concern, "Hey." Hands framing his face, holding him softly._  
> 
> _Love._  

Lucifer roared with laughter. It all made sense now. Why Castiel found solace in this kitchen, why he held so tightly onto these memories, why that tiny glimmer of hope had been instilled in him upon the Winchester's attempt of expelling Lucifer; upon seeing _Dean_  again. 

"Oh, this is rich. I knew you were a human sympathizer, but _this_ _?"_  Lucifer spin in his spot, delighting in Castiel's defeated expression and exposed grace. "I don't think this is exactly what Dad had in mind when He told us to 'Love Humanity', but then again, I may be a _tad_ biased." 

A sharp pang interrupted Lucifer's amusement. He winced, and Castiel writhed in pain. The room clouded with grey smoke. "Looks like our dear Aunt has come to play, Castiel. Don't think she'll be too thrilled to hear about your little attachment to her beau." 

With that, he left Castiel alone in the room. The pretense of the Winchesters' kitchen now only a memory. He laid in silence, in complete darkness, alone. 

* * *

With an outward cry, Lucifer squirmed against the wall that Amara had him pinned against. She laid into him, exerting very little energy while inflicting a lot of damage.  

"Winchester."Lucifer managed to croak out in between smitings. Amara stopped. 

"What did you say?" She asked, only just passing for stoic. 

"Dean..." He heaved, "Winchester." 

She smote him once more.  

"Resisted... you." Lucifer ground out, his head lolling from side to side. 

Amara didn't respond, the memory replaying in her head. She didn't understand it then, and it had plagued her since. It was as if she had no effect on him whatsoever, when all of the other times they were together, she felt him being drawn to her. 

"Stronger... bond." 

That piqued Amara's interest, "What are you talking about?" 

Lucifer breathed, unable to gain his bearings from the torture he'd been enduring on this physical plane. 

She yelled, and the sky crackled with lightning. "Lucifer! Speak!" She commanded. 

"Castiel." 

"The weakened seraph?" She scoffed, "What about him?" 

At this point Lucifer was able to compose himself enough to look into Amara's eyes,, enough to speak without too much struggle, "You heard him, didn't you?" Amara narrowed her eyes at him. "Dean, calling out to Castiel, while he was supposed to be... entranced by you." 

Amara squared her jaw, but Lucifer knew he'd gotten to her. He soldiered on, "You think of Castiel as weak, useless, expendable... because that's what the other angels think of him." Lucifer let himself smirk at the sight of Amara's confusion, "But what the angels don't know, what you don't know," Lucifer laughed at the _utter_  ridiculousness of his coming statement, "is that he and Dean-o  _love_  each other." 

Lucifer's laughter came to an immediate stop as a new wave of sharp shards of Amara's pure rage pierced him. If he'd been in pain before, it was nothing compared to this. It came at full force, unending. 

Deep in the dark of that former kitchen, Castiel's grace was on fire. There was no reprieve, no escape. He had no choice but to accept this agonizing assault. He wailed in response, a sound so pitiful, Lucifer _almost_ felt bad for him. He felt the cry reverberate against the walls of their shared mind, and echo outward. 

Then, a different vibration; more powerful in its impact, sounded. It was familiar, and it left a warmth in its path as it came and went. Lucifer grounded himself, physically and mentally, and prepared for the inevitable arrival. 

Amara didn't let up as the vibrations sped up and got closer. 

Finally, a burst of light struck the ground beside the two of them, forcibly halting her. 

There stood a man, much shorter than the both of them, bearded, wearing a bathrobe. Amara glared, though it seemed she was greatly affected by his blast of power, and unable to retaliate. 

Lucifer grinned mischievously, "Hey, Pops."


End file.
